Learning To Live
by MauMaster
Summary: Harry Potter--he drives me crazy! Always showing off, joking around and never serious for a moment! So why is he suddenly so smart? AU Oneshot


**Title: **Learning to Live

**Summary:** _Harry Potter--he drives me crazy! Always showing off, joking around and never serious for a moment! So why is he suddenly so smart? AU Oneshot_

**Notes: **Wow. Well, this is a story I've had written for AGES. Actually, it's something I'm reposting as a oneshot from my other account. I took it off that (it was chaptered... with obscenely short chapters and completely unedited) and put it here, because I think it's actually worthy of this account. I hope Sam isn't a Mary Sue... she's my first OC for FF. Ever. Eep! This is a premise that's been tugging at my brain for ages, and I always wind up trying to write it in different ways. Different reactions, different parts, different POVS, different times... To be honest, this is actually the furthest in the premise that it's able to truly go. I won't spoil anymore. Enjoy and feedback (especially on Sam) is great! XD

**Disclaimer: I don't own HP**

* * *

"Just because you're a good flyer doesn't mean you can lord over the rest of us!" I shouted angrily.

Potter just stood there, smirking his head off. He simply mounted his broom and flew the quickest lap around the hallway that I had ever seen. I rolled my eyes to hide my envy. He _was_ pretty fast, I had to admit it.

But that didn't mean he could brag about it!

"Black, face it. I'm better at flying than you. I'm the reason we got to the Quidditch finals." He rose himself higher off the ground, towards the ceiling while I glared. _Hope he hits his head or something_.

"Will you deflate your big head for once in your life and come down to earth? There's a _war_ going on, Potter! A war is where people fight and many die! In two years, we'll be out of Hogwarts. Do you want to be killed by Death Eaters?"

"No, of course not. I'm not stupid." Potter came down so he was only a foot above my head. "I understand that there's a war. I'm just pointing out that I can beat your butt on the field."

"Yeah, well I can beat yours on the field or in a duel."

Potter withdrew his wand and sneered. "You want to bet?"

I whipped my wand out of my pocket and draped my leg over my broom, ready to lift off. "I bet that you would fall off your broom during practice yesterday, didn't I?"

"You _pushed_ me off!"

"You still fell."

"I was _pushed_. It's different."

"Not really."

"Harry! Miss Black! What is going on here?"

I groaned. Professor Lupin was coming down the hall and he just adored Potter. Why couldn't my parents be friends with any teachers? It was probably to do with the fact that Dad got expelled in his fifth year and that Mum never went to Hogwarts in the first place. It didn't make a difference, though. Potter and his siblings were favored by Professor Lupin and teachers simply weren't supposed to choose favorites.

Of course, Potter was anything _but_ Professor Snape's favorite. On the other hand, Snape hated me as much as he hated him. It was the only thing the two of us could ever agree on.

"She started it," Potter immediately stated, pinning the blame on me. I flushed red.

"I did not! He came up to me, talking about how _great_ he was for winning us the last match and how _great_ it was going to be when _he_ wins the next one! As if the rest of us aren't even on the team!"

"Calm down, Samantha, I can hear you," Lupin said calmly. He turned to Harry. "If I catch you starting a fight with her again, I'm writing your parents."

"Uncle Remus!" Lupin gave him "The Look." "I mean, _Professor_, whatever! That's not fair! Mum'll kill me."

"And that's why you won't start another fight. Now, come down before I need to take points and give you detention." Potter lowered himself and stared at me with utmost loathing. "Anyhow, I was looking for you. Your father sent a newspaper article that he thought I'd be interested in and I figured since you were sneaking around this summer and know things you shouldn't, you would be interested, too."

Lupin handed Potter a clipped article. He scanned it, bored, but his eyes lit up within seconds.

"So Pettigrew's dead? Really dead?"

"Currently buried, according to your dad. He had to make all the arrangements, since it was, after all, his case."

"Stupid traitor," Potter mumbled. "Good riddance."

Lupin rolled his eyes and held out his hand. "Now give that back. I think your dad plans to frame it."

"Wicked!"

"Idiotic, in my opinion, but that refers to your dad a lot."

"Some best friend you are," Potter said, but laughed and handed over the article.

Lupin turned to me sternly, but cracked a smile.

"I haven't got much of a threat for you besides detention, which I know you don't mind that much unless it's with Professor Snape. But I'll have you know that if Harry gets into anymore fights, his mother will skin him alive, and it's always good to have some healthy competition. You'd be terribly bored without it and I'd have more trouble than I could handle. So, I suggest you two lay off on the arguing. Now, go. I expect Gryffindor to win the Cup this time. And Harry, no little stunts like last year! I don't want you in the Hospital Wing again!"

"Yes, sir!" He mounted his broom again and flew off in a blur. I rolled my eyes again.

"Bloody show-off."

"I agree, but I'm not supposed to say that about my godson." Professor Lupin waved pleasantly and walked in the opposite direction, back from where he had appeared. I watched his retreating back and when I was sure he was gone, scowled.

"I can't believe that Dumbledore hired him this year. Werewolves just aren't meant to teach! At least he'll be gone by the end of the year. Maybe he'll die…" I shook my head, automatically erasing that thought from my mind. "No, never mind, that's cruel. I hope he just _resigns!_" The words echoed slightly off the stone walls. "I'm crazy. I'm talking to myself. But whatever. Isn't one werewolf teacher enough? Isn't _Snape_ enough?"

Professor Lupin was never anything but kind and pleasant and fair. Sure, he especially liked the Potter kids and favored them, but he was still fair about it. And _that's_ what made him so bad! It was obvious that there was _something_ about me that he didn't like with his distance that he never displayed towards any other student. But he was too damn cowardly to let me know what it was, to even hint towards it! At least Snape told me why – he hated my dad. Simple as that.

It really was simple and the only thing Potter and I had in common. If possible, Snape hated Potter's dad and Lupin even more than mine. I had no clue what any of the hated people had done to him, but there were rumors as far as Lupin. Apparently, he had been the one to bite Snape when they were teenagers. As if we needed more proof towards the whole "No Werewolves At Hogwarts" campaign.

I walked like a normal human being to the Quidditch pitch, only slightly dismayed that everyone was already here.

"Black!" Bell shouted and stormed over to me. "Come on, you're late! Take your post, _now!_ Potter got here a full ten minutes ago! Where have you been?"

"Walking," I snapped as I flew up to the hoops. "Like a _normal_ person." The Weasley twins grinned from ear to ear.

"Ah, so you are normal!" Fred shouted.

"Never would've known, my boy!" George added as he flew in a loop nearby.

"I'm a _girl,_ you gits!"

"You are?" Potter laughed from high above. "Wow, you had me fooled!" I gritted my teeth. That arrogant, little _brat_… I'd have his head if he didn't shut up one day.

"Fred, George! Formation! Harry, shut up!" Bell snapped. They rolled their eyes.

"Yeah, wipe the fun out of everything…" they muttered in unison, but took their places.

Potter didn't say another word for the rest of practice. It was probably the best hour of my day.

* * *

_Dear Sam,_

_I'm so proud that you got into the Quidditch finals. Your mother and I will definitely be there! How many goals did you save in a row again? What was it, five? Six? The Keeper when I was at Hogwarts couldn't do that well!_

_Wait, no, that's a lie. I was the Keeper. I could definitely do that well._

_Just make sure that you're studying and not neglecting your work for practice. You do have OWLS this year (don't tease me, your mother is making my write it). Wait… I've got to go ring up a costumer._

_Back! How's that inner House rivalry with Harry Potter? Still going strong, I expect. He's got twin brothers, red hair, mini Weasley twins they could be. Just bought a bunch of prank stuff. I feel bad for the kid – next year, when they show up at Hogwarts, he'll have to be watching out for them. Be lucky you don't have siblings. They're horrible._

_Anyhow, how's DADA? You said you didn't like it much this year over Christmas. I'm sort of surprised. I thought it was your favorite subject. Who's your teacher? Is it another Snape that doesn't like you because of me? If it is, I swear, I'll rip his head off._

_Gotta go, more costumers. I love you, and your mother sends you her regards!_

_Love,_

_Dad_

--

_Dad-_

_I saved seven! I bet you didn't do that well. And Potter says that he won the game… we only won by seventy points. If I hadn't saved those seven goals, we would have tied, not won. So technically, I won the match._

_Don't worry, Dad, I'm going to do my homework right after I finish writing this. Hermione's my best friend – do you really think I won't do well? Plus, the Weasley twins have been helping me. Hey, don't laugh, they're smart! They just choose to not apply their knowledge to school work. I intend to just barely pass in Potions, so I can say I got an OWL for it, but not have to take NEWT classes. I imagine Snape would be just unbearable then._

_Speaking of Snape, no the DADA teacher isn't that bad. He doesn't really like me, but he's nice enough, I guess. His name's Lupin. He favors the Potter kids, because the one in my year is his godson. Figures, right? Anyhow, he's really fair and really nice, and he's a good teacher, too. I just wish he's tell me why he acts so strange around me! Like, distant. Especially distant. Ugh, I just hate it. He's a werewolf, too, though. Rumor has it that he bit Snape, but I doubt it's true. Aren't werewolves supposed to be bonded by bites? Like if a werewolf bites another person, the new werewolf is bonded to the other? If so, definitely not. Snape and Lupin got into a fight the other day in the Great Hall. Snape punched Lupin in the face for no apparent reason. It was pretty awesome, to be honest. I've never seen either professor that angry._

_Potter's an arrogant toerag. He's a git, he's a show-off. That answer your question? Maybe having those twins in the school will bring his big ego down a few notches. His sister, Rose, has done absolutely nothing!_

_Hermione's waiting. See you soon!_

_Love,_

_Sam_

* * *

"Ready to study?" Hermione perched herself on the edge of my bed with towers of books in her arms. I grabbed a pile to keep her from falling off the bed completely.

"Sure. Let's go to the Common Room, though. More room to spread out, you know."

We stumbled our way down the steps. Hermione carefully set her tipping stack on the rug, while I dumped mine unceremoniously in front of the fire and plopped down. Hermione began to go over her plan as I eavesdropped on other conversations. I groaned as I heard Potter and Weasley's obnoxious laughs.

"Know-It-All Granger's recruited Black for her study team," I heard Potter mutter under his breath. "Good luck, Ron. You'll never get away with asking Hermione out. Of all the girls to decide to pity…"

"Oh, shut up, Harry," Ron mumbled. I glanced over my shoulder – he was bright red. "Just because they're the two girls in Gryffindor that don't want to date you doesn't mean they won't want to date anyone else."

I snorted. Me, date Ron Weasley? His brothers were a different story, but Ron? Who in the world would want to date Ron?

"And then we'll do the review questions for Transfiguration, and wrap it all up with DADA. Sound good?"

"What?" I snapped back to attention. "Oh, yeah, sounds fine. So, Potions first?"

"Yes, because you need the most help in it!"

Five minutes later, Hermione had explained the first five chapters of our textbook for about the millionth time this year and had settled down for reviewing her notes while I answered questions.

Who in the world would date Ron… that was a good question. Hermione would. Being her best friend, she had told me things nobody else knew, like her crush on the redhead. She had started crushing on him ever since last year, when he finally unattached himself from Potter's side.

I had to admit, he wasn't _so_ bad. I mean, during the Triwizard Tournament, Ron had been so angry with Potter that he decided to get payback by hanging around me. Not a big deal, if you ask me. I had fun pissing the kid off and when Potter wasn't there, Ron was pretty cool. He was a damn good chess player at the least.

It was during this time that Hermione fell for him. But when he went back to Potter by Christmas (have a backbone, boy! I wanted to shout), it didn't die. Now he was just as annoying as before and Hermione was just as in love with him. As far I knew, Potter and Ron had been trying to get every girl in our year (besides Slytherins) to go out with either one of them. Well, he wasn't going to succeed, because even if Hermione succumbed, I wouldn't.

"Just _go, _mate!" I heard Potter urge as I bent over my Potions text diligently. "Ask her out! Black won't hex you as long as you don't hit on her."

"But if _Hermione_ doesn't like me –"

"She's missing out on an awesome bloke. At the very least ask if she can help with your homework. You'll get to spend time with her and get more comfortable being around her."

"Harry, I dunno… She's a prefect."

"My mum was a prefect and she _married_ my dad."

"He was Head Boy!"

"He was also a git until seventh year. Mum said that's when I'd grow out of it, too."

Ron snorted. "Your mum told you that you were a git?"

"No, I told her that I was a git and I didn't know how to stop. But really, it's so much fun trying to get Black riled up, isn't it? How could I stop? Now, stop changing the subject! Ask her out or I will for you!" No response came from Ron as I scribbled an answer on my piece of parchment. Potter must have known I was listening. None of that could possibly be _true_. He was just trying to trick me… "Fine. You asked for it."

Suddenly, the small empty space between Hermione and I wasn't empty. Potter's shiny, new-ish shoes were stretched out in front of him as he leaned on his hands and smiled at us widely. I scowled. Hermione smiled shyly.

"Hello, ladies," he greeted. "Oh, sorry. _Lady_, I meant. Hey, Black."

"Stuff it, Potter."

"I didn't come here to talk to you anyhow." He shrugged me off like I was an insignificant little piece of dirt! "Hermione, my friend over there, Ron Weasley – you know, tall, freckles, red hair, brother to Fred, George, Ginny, Percy, and Bill and Charlie, but you don't know those two. Yeah, anyhow, Ron likes you. He was wondering if you wanted to go out with him on the next Hogsmeade visit, but he's too shy to ask himself."

Hermione blushed deep red and gave me an excited smile. _Oh, no, Hermione, don't do this to yourself! Don't do this to me!_

"I don't know," she said quietly, glancing at me. "Sam and I sort of had plans that day." She shot me a pleading look. I sighed. Those brown eyes would never fail.

"Go ahead," I muttered. Hermione beamed.

"Sure, tell him that I'd love to go." Potter gave her thumbs up and hopped to his feet, bounding over to the couch again.

"She said yes. Congrats, Ron, you got a date with Hermione Granger. And now I've got no plans on the Hogsmeade weekend. Nor does Black."

"You two could double with us?"

Potter made a gagging noise. "Me and Black? You're kidding, right?" The boys cracked up hysterically and I felt my face redden in embarrassment.

Alright, that's it. My eavesdropping days are _so_ over.

"I'm going to the dorm," I announced to Hermione. "I promise, I'll study more tomorrow. But I'm exhausted." Hermione smiled sympathetically and patted my arm.

"Quidditch practice bad?"

"No, Potter didn't say a word. It was great. But Lupin gave me a lecture before hand, so I got held up and got in trouble for being late. I'm just tired. Really."

I stood up and Potter stopped laughing suddenly. As I passed, his smile faded and a flicker registered in his eyes.

As soon as I was on the steps, his chuckling began once more.

* * *

"The three Unforgivable Curses," Lupin said and pointed to me. "Miss Black."

"The Killing Curse, the Crutacious Curse, and the Imperius Curse," I answered back quickly. Our OWLS review was killing me. Lupin kept asking random questions to random students, and I swear, I didn't know half of them. I was lucky that the one I _did_ know landed on me.

"Correct, good work. The name of the charm against dementors… Mr. Malfoy."

"Patronus Charm."

"Good job." He scanned the classroom, looking for an unsuspecting classmate. "Five signs of a werewolf, Harry."

"What?" The black haired boy's head shot up in surprise.

"Five signs of a werewolf," Lupin repeated impatiently. "Pay attention, Harry, please. Five points from Gryffindor."

Potter sighed and shut his eyes tightly. "Er… tufted tail, long snout, larger pupils… I can't remember the rest."

Lupin shook his head. "Gold eyes and four canine teeth instead of two like a normal wolf."

"Professor Lupin, I don't see why those things matter," Ron spoke up. "After all, if I'm close enough to see the color of a werewolf's eyes and how many teeth it has, I'm pretty much doomed."

Professor Lupin laughed good-naturedly.

"I see your point, Ron. I don't see why it matters, either. All I know is that it's on the tests. I'll tell you one thing – I was a werewolf for at least nine years before I knew any of these things. And I don't think even one of them would have saved me from the bite. So, my excuse is that it matters for your test. And then, once school is over, feel free to forget every bit of that information."

The class laughed and scribbled down a few notes, including Harry.

"Harry, you get a second chance. How do you defeat a boggart?"

"Laughter."

"Alright, but on the tests, you'll want to go more into detail."

The door of the classroom slammed open and a man came running in. My mouth dropped open just as Potter's head burrowed into his arms.

"_Dad_," I heard him moan.

"Moony!" the man cried. "Moony, Moony, Moony!" Professor Lupin rolled his eyes and turned to his friend.

"Prongs! Prongs, Prongs, Prongs! What is it?" The man (Prongs? What kind of name was that?) perched himself on the desk, shoving papers out of the way.

"Nothing, I'm visiting the castle while Lily does repairs on the house."

Professor Lupin shook his head, dismayed. "What did you do this time?"

"Nothing! Lily was experimenting with Potions, and the twins were playing with fireworks and they combined and ka-boom! There goes the living room. And then I come home and slip in the spilled Potion with my wand in my hand and sparks flew out and ka-boom! There went the kitchen. So, now Lily's out to get our skin and she advised that we escape while we can."

Professor Lupin laughed.

"Oh, Merlin, James. Take my keys, bunk out in my flat. They're in my quarters on the desk. When Lily comes calling, though, I'm keeping no secrets." James (okay, that sounded normal) shrugged happily and turned out the door.

"Thanks, Moony!" we heard him call from the hallway. Lupin gave Potter the deepest look of regret.

"If you turn out like him," he gravely proclaimed, "I think the world will collapse. I feel bad for your wife. And your offspring." Potter reddened even further and slid down in his seat as the bell rang, deafening us. I leapt out of my seat as quickly as I could, slid my books off the desk, grabbed Hermione, and strode to the door at top speed.

* * *

Moving so quickly was definitely a mistake. That meant being early for Potions, which meant more Snape torture. Hermione and I were the first ones to class and we silently made our way to our usual table and began to unload our stuff. Moments later, Potter and Ron trailed in.

"Five minutes and it's already all over the school! My dad just wants to ruin me, doesn't he?" Potter was complaining as they dumped their books down loudly, probably just to annoy Snape. "There are times when I really hate him. He's hiding something from me, did you know that? I overheard him and Uncle Remus talking one day and they were talking about this guy. He didn't sound much fun, though. Maybe that's why they don't see him anymore."

"What do you mean, he didn't sound fun?"

"Uncle Remus said something like, 'Well, he's serious. What do you expect?' I hate it when they treat me like I'm five and hide this sort of stuff." Ron glanced over to us as Hermione and I unpacked our homework quietly.

"Hey, mate, you don't mind if I… er, work with Granger, right?"

Potter shrugged. "I got you the date. Go for it."

"You'll have to work with Black."

"I can deal. I promise I won't torment your date's friend too much."

Two minutes later, I had come to an important conclusion. This eavesdropping thing was getting out of hand. I _really_ needed to stop. It's just not good to be half ready to switch seats when the kid comes up to ask about switching. I swear, he knows I was listening. I could only hope that he didn't tell Potter…

The classroom filled up pretty quickly after that. That was a good thing, too, because otherwise, it would have been a very awkward few minutes with Potter. But then he started talking to Seamus Finnigan and Dean Thomas, while I chatted with Neville and Lavender.

"Silence," Snape announced once the last Slytherin strode in, ignoring the fact that Parvati had yet to show up. "Turn to page five hundred and three in your textbooks. Answer the review questions. I expect no talking and the answers handed in at the end of class. I'll be in the storage room, but if I hear any noise I will be coming right out!"

Parvati slipped quietly into the seat behind me.

"Five points from Gryffindor, Patil. You're late."

With a swish of his robes, Snape was gone.

"If he wasn't already a werewolf, I'd say he was a vampire or a bat or something," Potter mumbled under his breath.

"For once, agreed," I mumbled back and reached down into my bag for a fresh piece of parchment. Potter did the same on the other side of the desk, but stopped abruptly halfway. His eyes squinted in confusion and he traced the side of the table carefully with his finger.

"Black, what's your dad's first name?" he asked in less than a whisper.

"Why?"

"What's his name?"

"_Why?_"

"Just tell me his name!"

Boy, and I thought I was persistent at times. I opened my mouth the respond, but Professor Lupin opened the door cautiously at that time. He smiled at us, but did not greet us. He went straight for the storage room, making sure to knock first.

"Move, Lupin," we heard Snape bark. "There's not room for both of us in here. Wait out there, I'll bring it to you." Lupin backed away obediently and leaned against the wall uneasily, waiting. Snape emerged a moment later, shoving a goblet into our DADA teacher's hands.

Lupin winked at us and raised the goblet. "Cheers," he said monotonously, pinched his nose, and gulped it down in one go. "Yuck." He handed it back Snape who glared.

"Get out of my classroom, Lupin. Just because you allow others the barge into yours does not mean I tolerate it."

"I'm leaving, I'm leaving. I just thought that the students might appreciate it if I made sure to get my first dose of the potion. I don't want to go back to the Shrieking Shack, I'm sure you understand. Thank you, Severus. See the rest of you at dinner."

The door opened and shut once more and he was gone.

Fifty-five minutes later, we were let free for the afternoon. I gasped for air as we escaped from the dungeons and twirled in the _freedom!_ Snape had managed to take ten points for hesitating too long before writing my next answer, splattering a little bit of ink, accidentally breaking the tip of my quill, and for my bag falling over.

But Potter's question was still nagging me in the back of my mind. Why did he want to know my father's name? It's not like it mattered, I was just curious.

"Hey, Potter!" I called out, interrupting Hermione's rant about how wonderful the period had been while sitting next to Ron. I smiled apologetically and gave her the "one minute" signal. "My dad's name. You wanted to know it?"

"Forget it," he muttered and walked away with Ron towards the Quidditch fields before I could say another word.

"What was that all about?" Hermione questioned as we headed for the Tower.

"No clue. And to be honest, I'm not sure I want to have one."

"That's a first."

"Don't I know it."

* * *

"Go, go, Gryffindor! Go, go, Gryffindor!" Blood pounded in my ears as I flew for the ground and the crowd cheered. Potter did a victory lap and a twist, but I didn't chide him for showing off this time. I wanted to do one myself.

We had won! We had won the Quidditch Cup by at least two hundred points! I saved ten full goals, not a player had a scratch, and Potter made a spectacular catch. We screamed in delight as we lifted our Seeker onto our shoulders, who displayed the Snitch proudly.

Of course, that's not to say we didn't drop him for the Cup in an instant.

With a face full of dirt and grass, Potter leapt back onto his feet and cheered just as loudly as the rest of us.

"Great job, Black! I saw that last save!" Potter congratulated over the noise.

"Same to you!" I shouted. "Awesome catch!"

"Thanks!" He paused and took a glance at Bell, who was positively beaming, but not moving at all. "Want to give our captain a lift? She looks a bit stunned." I shrugged and joined him as we swept Katie onto our shoulders.

She shrieked, of course, but once she figured out what was going on, beamed even more and pounded her fist in the air.

"We won! We _won!_ I can't believe we _won!_"

Hermione and Ron raced down to the pitch, together. I had seen before the game started that they had been sitting together, but it didn't bother me and Potter. The only time our friends' relationship (which was certainly a relationship, even if they refused to admit it) bothered us was during Potions, when we sat together. Hermione squeezed me tightly, shouting in my ear. And she said that she didn't like Quidditch that much. Pfft.

Professor Lupin and Mr. and Mrs. Potter came running onto the field next. Mr. Potter, smiling proudly, clapped his son on the back, shouting that he _knew_ that he would get the Quidditch genes. Mrs. Potter corrected him – apparently, Potter got the "idiotic, reckless, stupid, yet completely and miraculously natural flying" genes, but neither one really cared.

I searched the crowd for my mum and dad eagerly, but I couldn't spot them in the masses. Suddenly, my vision was obscured form behind.

"Boo," a voice whispered in my ear. I spun around and wrapped my arms around my dad tightly while Mum fought her way through to catch up.

"Dad!" I cried. "Oh my gosh, we won! We _won!_"

"Congrats, kid. I'm proud of you."

Mum slid up beside him at this moment and hugged me as well. "I think he's just proud that you managed to almost finish fifth year without getting expelled, but…"

"_Jen_," Dad hissed in a warning voice. "_Them_…"

"Oh, hush, they can't hear you. Sam, you did amazing. Those saves were classic, I got about a million pictures!"

I blushed. "Mum, you didn't!"

"I didn't just get pictures of you, relax."

"So this is the infamous Samantha Black, hm?" I jumped and twirled around to see who had said my name. The Potter family was gathered behind me in a cluster of black and red hair. Mr. Potter was smiling, clutching Potter on the shoulder tightly. "I've heard a lot about you, Miss Black…"

"And likewise about your son," Dad stood in quickly.

Mr. Potter laughed. "Oh, no, it's not a bad thing. Somebody needs to knock some sense into this kid sometimes." Mr. Potter lightly smacked his son in the head.

"Dad..." he whined, much like me at times.

"Sh, Harry, I'm socializing. I don't get to do that often, I'm too busy cleaning up me and your brothers' messes. Sirius Black, nice to see you again." He stuck out his hand and Dad shook it firmly.

"James Potter. A pleasure." Potter's mouth dropped open.

"I knew it! I knew it, I knew it! What happened, Dad? Why aren't you two friends anymore? C'mon, Dad, don't hide it from me! What happened? Did you have a fight? What was it about?" Potter's eyes had lit up like light bulbs. What was he talking about?

"How… you… Black, what have you told your daughter?" Mr. Potter sneered at Dad and Mum quickly grabbed his hand.

"Don't go blaming Sam on this, I haven't told her a thing about Hogwarts except that she better not get expelled like me." Dad was _angry_. Nobody accuses me of something I didn't do and get away with it if they're in front of my parents.

"Your dad was expelled?" Potter cried, surprised. "Bloody hell! Why? Is that why you're not friends?" The crowd suddenly fell silent as everyone turned to look at the uproar even louder than the cheering.

"Oh, Merlin, help me," Mr. Potter muttered. "Remus! Remus! Moony! Over here!" He waved his arm wildly to alert the professor's attention. "Marauder's hideout! Code 321!"

"Code 321?" Dad spat. "What does that mean?" Mr. Potter shrugged.

"I don't know, it just sounds cool. I made it up. Are you telling her everything? Because we're going to the hideout."

"Tell me _what?_"

"Sh, Samantha," Mum whispered in my ear. "You'll find out in good time. be patient."

"I'm a Black, I'm never patient!"

She rolled her eyes, but seemed to agree, because she didn't respond.

"Which hideout? The usual or did you make a new one?" Dad asked coldly. Mr. Potter gave him a "duh" look.

"You think we'd change it? Merlin, we'd _never!_ That place has so many memories, it'd kill us to even try. Come on."

The crowd parted quickly for us, but I didn't move. What was going _on_? Potter looked back to see me standing there, so he backtracked and linked his arm into mine.

"Black, we can do this the easy way or the hard way. Which do you prefer?"

"I'd sort of like to see what you have planned for the hard way…" Potter grinned mischievously and I saw what he was going to do only seconds before he did it. "No, Potter!"

It was too late. He had pushed me onto his broom and taken off.

Now, let's get this straight. I'm a good flyer. I like to fly. Flying is _fun_ – but not when you're sitting side saddle. I hurriedly swung my leg over the edge and gripped on for dear life. Bloody hell, the Firebolt was fast. My Cleansweep had nothing on it!

Potter had his arms around me in an uncomfortable closeness, but it was only to steer the broom. I let him – Merlin knows what would have happened otherwise. Well, no, I do know. Bam! Right into the Whomping Willow like Potter's first broom.

I gasped when I saw that we were still going towards the Whomping Willow. We were about twenty feet behind and above our families, but the destination was clear. Why the heck were we going somewhere that would get our eyes poked out?

"Alright, now we can talk," Potter whispered and slowed down considerably. "Short story is, I found our dad's names carved into the desks at Potions. It looked like Snape had been trying to get it out for ages, but nothing worked." He shrugged. "Long story, I've been hearing Dad and Uncle Remus talking about a _fourth_ friend for ages, ever since Pettigrew started dying. They were wondering if they'd call him and see how he was doing about the death, catch up, you know, the whole deal. They decided not to, for whatever reason. I always knew that the Marauders were three students, not four, so I got curious."

"You're too damn curious for your own good."

"My mother says that, too," he chuckled.

"Why are you _always_ laughing?" I snapped. "Not everything is so funny! You just can't take things seriously, can you? There's a war going on!" His laughs died away as quickly as they had come.

"And you can't make a joke, can you?" I didn't respond, only clenched my jaw in aggravation. "Look, I don't think you understand. Voldemort is killing people. He will never stop. He's been out there since before we were born, and I doubt there are many people in the world that can stop him. I'm well aware that there's a war. I'm targeted. So, if he pops up out of nowhere to kill me…" He shrugged. "I'll fight, but I know I'd be no match. I'd rather die laughing and enjoying myself, then die a depressed wet blanket like you."

"I am not a wet blanket! Nor am I depressed!"

"No, but you're also not targeted personally by Voldemort." Potter's broom sped up a little and the wind whipped my face, hard. Potter grinned at the speed.

"Like you are."

"Yeah, exactly."

Twenty seconds went by as his statement sunk in.

"You're _what?_" I had to stop myself from twisting around on the broom. I surely would have fallen off. "Since _when_? You've got to be lying."

"Since I was born," he spat. "Of course, I only found out last year, after Neville and I got into the Tournament. Someone was obviously trying to get us killed. It's a shame they got Krum instead. He was a good Quidditch player, although Ron was pissed that he liked Hermione."

"You're lying," I insisted. A dark look fell over Potter's eyes as we began to lower ourselves. Professor Lupin was waiting at the base of the tree.

"I don't tell lies," he finally said as he swung his legs over the broom and touched ground. He pulled the sleeve to his robe down over his right hand roughly and scowled. "Umbridge made sure of that."

"Come on, you two," Lupin urged and took Potter's broom from my hands. "They're going to start fighting any second, I can feel it." He levitated a twig and shot it at a knob in the tree. The swinging arms froze and my eyes widened. A little hole had made itself visible. _There was a passage under the tree!_

"Whoa," I whispered. Lupin grinned.

"It _is_ pretty cool the first time, isn't it? Ladies first."

I turned to face Potter. "Your godfather wants you to lead the way."

Potter rolled his eyes, still pissed off from my comments, I suppose. I groaned in annoyance and picked my way through the roots and into the tunnel. Potter and Lupin followed.

Lupin gently pulled me to the side and began to lead us through the small, dank tunnel. He seemed to know the way very well, and looked unhappy at the prospect of being there.

I kept my mouth shut, and thankfully, so did Potter. Thinking about Umbridge had put us both in a mood. We had plenty of bad teachers for DADA, and though I didn't care for him, Lupin was without a doubt the best. After Quirrell, who had been found dead in Hogsmeade with the Dark Mark above him, and Lockhart, who turned out to be a fake, we had been surprised when Umbridge bested them both on our "Bad Teachers" list. She was even worse than Snape.

Of course, I might be biased, because Potter always seemed to hate Lockhart very much, while he just annoyed me. Then again, Lockhart _was_ super cute.

Anyhow, Umbridge had come to Hogwarts during our third year. She didn't allow us to have any practical lessons (although after the pixie incident in second, that might have been a good idea) and punished any student who disagreed with her. She felt that Hogwarts was all wrong and tried to change it. Luckily, she was scared away by angry parents before too long.

I could clearly remember the first interesting lesson we had ever with her. Potter had stood up in his seat and had a shouting match with her. I smiled slightly as I thought back on it.

* * *

"Werewolves, unless born in that way, generally have a sense of stupidity in them. After all, anyone who had enough brains to stay out of the woods on full moon and to run from a werewolf wouldn't be bitten." Umbridge smiled menacingly at us as I idly doodled on a piece of paper. The classroom was unusually silent and Hermione nudged my arm quickly.

"Look at Potter!" she whispered into my ear and my head shot up. What was he doing _this_ time?

"Stupidity?" he spat and rose to his feet, knocking over his chair. "That's absolutely ridiculous! There are plenty of werewolves that are clever beyond belief. It may not be a very nice example, but Greyback's got to have some brains to be able to stage these attacks, doesn't he? He's got to have brains to sneak into people's houses and kidnap children!"

"That's enough, Mr. Potter," Umbridge snapped. "Sit down! Five points from Gryffindor. You will raise your hand when you would like to speak in my class." Potter, glaring, took a seat and Umbridge continued with her lecture. "Mr. Potter seems to know a werewolf that he believes is not stupid. Would you care to share?"

"My godfather! And Professor Snape isn't stupid, he can make the Wolfsbane Potion. Do you have any idea how complicated a potion that is? My mum works with it, I've seen the instructions. It's so hard that even she can't make it, and she works in St. Mungo's!"

"Did your godfather ever attend school, Mr. Potter?"

"Yes, he went to Hogwarts just the same as anyone else! And, yes, he passed with flying colors, and no, he didn't cheat. Most likely, it was others that cheated off of him. I don't call that stupid."

"Mr. Potter, I won't tolerate you making up ridiculous stories like that. Everyone knows that werewolves cannot attend Hogwarts, with the exception of Professor Snape, who was a special case."

Potter's face grew red and I had to clap my hand over my mouth to keep from giggling. One of them was going to _get_ it, and to be frank, I didn't care which one. Hermione's nails dug into my arm and I heard her gasp.

"I'm not making up stories! Ask Snape! Ask him, my godfather went to Hogwarts, he's a werewolf!"

"That's it! I told you that I would not tolerate lies in this classroom! Detention! Tonight!"

The classroom settled down considerably and Umbridge was so angry that we didn't even get homework. But Potter and Ron shoved their way past everyone and stormed off to the Owlery, muttering about stupid teachers.

Potter was officially on Umbridge's bad side. Even the slightest sound from him in class could result in two nights of detention, minimum. I had no clue what he did during detention, but he would turn up late for Quidditch practice every time with a towel wrapped around his hand.

One night, he took a Bludger to the gut. Luckily (okay, okay, I considered it unluckily), he only fell about two feet. Being the nearest, I helped him up grudgingly and caught a look at his raw, reddened hand.

On it, the words, 'I must not tell lies' were carved.

"Don't tell anyone," he hissed as soon as he realized that I saw it. "It'll only satisfy her. Nobody can know. Get it, Black?" I nodded wordlessly as he shoved me aside and stalked off to the locker rooms.

* * *

Potter had actually been the reason that Umbridge was fired. His father had complained and, when his complaints were ignored, gathered the rest of the Gryffindor parents, the exception being mine, who came on their own. She was gone within a month after they got together.

Umbridge had definitely been the worst, everyone agreed. Not even fake-Moody in fourth year had beat her, especially since he was a pretty good fake. He was nicer than I expect the real Death Eater behind the potions would have been.

It's not like I never questioned Potter's liability after third year, but a gut feeling made me think that maybe, just _maybe_ he was telling the truth. It made me sick to think it was possible. A kid my own age, targeted by Voldemort?

Lupin halted in front of a branch sticking out from the dirt walls. He tapped his wand in a strange pattern that seemed to be a password and the space opened up.

"No Shrieking Shack?" Potter asked. The Shrieking Shack? _That's_ where the rest of the tunnel led? That was pretty awesome, in my opinion, even if it wasn't truly haunted. Everyone knew it was where Snape and Lupin had transformed when they were in school.

"Nope. This is the Marauder's Hideout. We dug it out in our third year, during some late night excursions. Pretty cool, right?" Lupin stepped inside the space. Potter and I trailed after. Both of our mouths dropped open.

The room was spacey, especially for being dug into dirt walls. Lanterns lit the sides and I could see that the walls and ceiling were unevenly cut, as if someone had just blown it up with their wand. That was probably the case, I realized quickly. A rug covered the ground and several comfy chairs and pillows were spread out all over. Mum and Dad were standing stiffly on one side of the room, talking quietly under their breath. Mrs. Potter was seated in one of the chairs and Mr. Potter was looking intently at a piece of wall in the corner.

"Moony? The kids here yet?" he asked, not turning.

"We're here," Lupin said wearily. "I'm surprised you two haven't torn each other apart, yet."

"I figured you'd like to help," Mr. Potter said simply.

"Thank the wives, actually," Dad muttered.

"No tearing apart for me," Lupin said and flopped into an armchair. "I'm done with that in this place." He glanced around, settling in. "You know, this place is probably more secure than the Shrieking Shack ever could have been. If it wouldn't have been admitting to breaking rules and the fact that this place is so nice, I probably should have seen about transforming in here."

"It would've solved so much," Dad sighed. Mum took his hand into her's gently. Mr. Potter shot a look worthy of me over at them.

"I doubt it," he mumbled.

"Will you just tell us what's going on?" Potter asked as he stalked over to his parents. Mine came to me, and I felt my dad's strong arms encircle me warmly. I buried myself into them, feeling I would need the comfort very soon.

"Shall I start?" Lupin asked, glancing around the room. Nobody protested. "To put it simply, we were all best friends. Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs, best friends for life. Wormtail was kicked out when we found out that he was a Death Eater and had been giving information to Voldemort about us. Speaking of Wormtail, James, you said you had some interesting stuff on him."

Mr. Potter smiled. "He had a crush on Bellatrix Lestrange in Azkaban. Merlin knows how he can _love_ while in that place, but he was as obsessed as she is crazy. What's even weirder is that she seemed to like him back."

Dad let out an involuntary laugh. They all stared. "My cousin having a crush is sort of hilarious, sorry."

"Cousin?" I shrieked and tore myself away from his arms. So much for comfort. "But… she's evil!" How much did my father not tell me?

"Don't I know it. Any chance that Bella's dying soon?"

Mr. Potter shook his head. "Healthiest prisoner we have, physically speaking. Mentally, she's been gone for years."

"She was dropped on her head, as a child. Her parents didn't care for her and her sisters much. They wanted a son and probably would have taken Regulus if _my_ family didn't need him to keep up our name." Dad snorted.

"Oh, will you shut up, Black?" Mrs. Potter snapped. "Let them get on with it! Jeez, you're still annoying, aren't you?"

"Oh, you bet," Mum told her and glared at Dad. "He'll be quiet, now."

"Mr. Potter, Professor Lupin…" I searched for words. "If you were such good friends, what happened?"

"Call me James, I hate being called Mr. Potter," Mr. Potter – er, James – said quickly. "It makes me feel like I'm being scolded by McGonagall. And I was getting to that. Your father and I were best friends, almost brothers. Then he went and told a secret we had trusted him with Moony's life to someone, just because they were rivals. He almost got a student _killed_. I suppose you know why he was expelled."

I turned to Dad, who sighed and ran his fingers through his hair.

"Yeah, I did it," he said, resignedly. "I told Snape that Remus was a werewolf. Well, no, I didn't tell him. Snape was being an annoying git and kept butting into our business. He kept snooping around, so I decided on full moon to give him one last hint. I told him how to freeze the tree and that he would find Remus if he went through the tunnels. He thought we were up to something illegal –"

"Which we were," Lupin interrupted.

"Not you, though," Dad continued. "I told James a few minutes before moonrise, when I saw Snape going out to the tree. Peter and James went to stop him, but they were too late. He got bit. Snape's lucky he wasn't killed, at least."

"Remus got sent to Azkaban, the rest of us got fined for being illegal Animagus and were suspended. Your father was expelled and we never heard a damn word from him again." James sneered angrily at Dad, who stepped forward defensively.

"I'm sorry! It was an idiotic mistake! Can't a kid make a mistake? I was fifteen, I was a git! So were you, _James Potter_, or as I heard your _wife_ once say, 'that arrogant toerag.' Yeah, Lily, I overheard you call him that to Snape. I'm not deaf, I was sitting right there in the library. I apologized only a million times! You don't have to forgive me, ever, but don't say I didn't try!"

"Didn't try?" Lupin stood from his chair, shaking. "What do you mean, you tried? You apologized? _I_ didn't hear any of it!"

"I sent you tons of letters that summer! At least one, maybe two or three every day!"

"Bet your parents were pleased with you, too," Lupin spat. "I think almost killing someone with a werewolf would constitute appropriate 'Black' behavior to them."

"My parents?" Dad got red. "My parents _disowned_ me the same day I got expelled! I was blasted off the family tapestry! The last thing they ever did for me was pay the fine for the Animagus thing, bring me home so that I could watch my name go up in flames, and then drag me out of the house to go to a bloody orphanage! Even Andromeda doesn't like me! I've gotten disowned from the _disowned_ of the family. I've paid more dearly for the mistake than you think."

Potter backed away from his parents nervously. Even he could sense that things were heating up. In my fascination with the words that explained so much of my life, I didn't move an inch.

"Orphanage?" James stepped forward towards my dad. "You're kidding, right? Playing the pity card, right? Because we can beat you with that. How long did you spend in Azkaban for Black's mistake, Remus?"

"Two months, maybe two and a half. I got out three days before school started and by then, everyone knew, of course."

Dad's mouth gaped. "You… they sent a teenager to Azkaban? They can't do that!"

"They can if that teenager is a werewolf. Those sort of rules don't matter, then. Werewolves are treated in whatever way people think they ought to be treated."

"Oh, Merlin, Moony, I'm so sorry, so, so sorry! I had no idea! I didn't think, you know that, I never think!"

"Don't call him that!" James roared and shoved Dad into the wall. Mom clapped her hand over her mouth to stifle a scream. "You _betrayed_ him, you betrayed us! You don't reserve the right to call us by our nicknames anymore!"

"I wrote every day, I swear! Ask Jen! She sat with me every stinking day, helping me word it, figure out how to express what I was thinking. She doesn't even _like_ werewolves and she helped me!"

"Of course. You marry a werewolf-hater. Typical."

Before anyone could blink, James was on the ground and Dad had an outstretched hand.

"Scream at me. Blame me. I don't care. But insult Jen, insult my daughter, and I _will_ hurt you."

"James! Sirius!" Lupin had finally regained his bearings and stepped between them, pulling James up from the ground. "Stop it! You said you wrote to me?"

"Do prisoners get mail?"

"Moony should have. He wasn't in high security. He was in medium."

"They don't follow the rules when it comes to werewolves," Dad murmured. "Damn it! Damn it to hell!"

"Sirius!" Mum yelled. "Language!"

"They withheld your mail!" Dad yelled to Lupin. "They kept it from you! I wrote the letters, I sent them out! They didn't give them to you! I thought you didn't care. I told you all this different stuff, from normal, basic stuff, to the weirdest stuff in the world, which is a lot considering it's me. I told you all about being disowned and the orphanage and Jen… I told you that if you hated me and never wanted to hear from me again, to not write back, I'd get the hint eventually. I thought… but… you do hate me, don't you?"

"You really wrote letters?" Lupin asked in a strangled voice. Dad nodded and reached into his pocket.

"I made a copy with one of them. In reality, I was doing homework – there was a school there – and we were doing replicating charms, but I wanted to keep a copy of it. It was the first one. Here." He passed Lupin a piece of parchment.

He read it slowly, a shaky smile lifting on his lips.

"You honestly talk about how hot you think a girl is while trying to apologize?" he murmured. Dad shrugged and pointed to a line in the letter.

"I told you, that'll never go away in me."

Lupin rolled his eyes. "James, take a look. We need to have a conference."

The two men huddled up and began talking in hushed tones. Potter sidled his way over to me and wrapped his arm around my shoulder. I shrugged him off, disgusted.

"Get off of me, you git."

"Sorry," he grinned cheekily. "I have a feeling that they're going to forgive each other, and that we'll be spending more time together."

"Oh, wonderful. Just what I need. More Potter in my life."

"Don't forget, I have three younger siblings. Rose, Steven, and Ryan."

"I'm very glad to be an only child. Dad never said he was disowned, though. He just said that his family and he had lost contact. And I definitely didn't know why he was expelled."

Potter shrugged. "You learn new things every day. Like, for example, that there's a secret hideout out here. This could be very useful for later… we could always try it out now, but I don't think Mum and Dad would like that much."

He slung his arm around me again and I wiggled away. "Ew. Don't even try it, Potter, don't even try."

"Merlin, you really don't like me, do you?"

"You're dafter than I thought."

Lupin and James seemed to be taking a while to have this discussion, especially seeing as they had come out of the huddle. I slid down to the floor, still taking in all the information. Potter joined me.

"How come you hate me so much?" I glared.

"Can't you leave me alone?" No response. It took that as a no. "You're an obnoxious git who thinks the world revolves around you! Is that enough?"

"Yeah, that works. I'll take it. But for the record, you're a bratty teenage girl that won't give a guy a chance to become friends with you. I'm not the only one, either. Michael Corner and Colin Creevey are obsessed with you and you completely ignore them. Creevey, I can't blame you about, but Corner's a nice bloke when you get to know him. You don't even give the girls a chance. Ginny Weasley tried to talk to you last week at Quidditch practice and you acted like she was invisible."

"I'm not a people person. All I need is Hermione, my mum, and my dad, and I'm good." I thought for a moment. "My family is all I've ever known. Both of my parents grew up unwanted, unloved. They didn't want that for me, so I guess they… smothered me with it. I grew a resistance to people, just because of it. I thought, if they're so scared of what will happen when I'm not with them, other people can't be good! So, I formed a habit."

"I understand, I think. But it did the opposite with me. My parents were so protective when I was a kid that I just needed my freedom. I made a bunch of friends, snuck around school a bit, and suddenly, I had an awesome reputation and was popular. I didn't plan on it, I just wanted to get out." His words began to sink in.

"Tell me about how you're targeted," I demanded.

"Neville, too," he sighed. "The three of us are the only kids that know. Simply put, there was a prophecy that can pertain to one of us. Voldemort wants one of us dead, because then he can't be defeated. My house has a million protections. If we hadn't caught Pettigrew right before he betrayed us, I'd be dead now. See this?" he pulled out a circular looking necklace from beneath his shirt. "There's a button on it. It calls the Auror Department, if I ever get into a scratch with Death Eaters. It saved me last summer. I dodged as long as I could and pressed with button. It should've been me and Neville, not me and Krum… but it wasn't and that's a good thing."

"Sounds sucky."

"It is." He threw a small pebble with a surly expression.

"Wait – only the three of us, as in you, me, and Neville?"

"Yep." He sighed.

"What about Ron? You know, your best friend?"

He shook his head in a sad way. "I can't do that to him, Sam. He'd freak out and be worrying and wouldn't have the time to be a kid. Did you know that after I found out, I didn't do anything fun for ages? I was so scared, all I did was study DADA for something that could save my life. I've given up by now, of course. If I'm going to die, I might as well make a name for myself beforehand, and live life to the fullest."

"You actually sounded wise there, Potter. And I never said you could call me Sam."

"Sorry. But Ron flinches when someone says Voldemort. Do you really think that I could tell him that I was targeted?"

"No, probably not. I tell Hermione everything, though. I can't imagine keeping a secret like that from her. I won't tell her this, though," I hurriedly added. "It's your secret. I respect secrets. My dad's drilled that into me my whole life. I guess I know why now."

"Why aren't you afraid of his name?" I snorted.

"It sounds ridiculous. As long as I call him Voldemort, I can't be too scared. I feel bad for him. Whoever named him that is an idiot. No wonder he's evil."

Potter laughed. "Good point. For me, it's because it's just a name and it can't possibly hurt me. But I like your idea better, I think. Can I use it?"

"Go ahead."

"Alright, everyone! We have an announcement!" James yelled. I looked up in surprise. I had almost forgotten what was going on around us. Mum had moved and was chatting with Mrs. Potter. Dad was kicking a wall, trying to get out pent frustration. And now, James and Lupin had finished their conference.

"Sirius, we figured that you've had enough guilt and definitely enough punishment. Watching your own name go up in flames with your mother standing next to it… that image scares _me_." Lupin strode up to Dad and gently rested his hand on his shoulder. "In short, welcome back, Padfoot."

"Are you serious?" he asked in shock.

"Of course not, you git, that's you!" James was hysterical with himself. Dad and Lupin stared at him in amazement. "Oh, that never gets old!"

"Yes, it does."

"It's been old since the second day of first year."

"It's been old since I was five."

James was still laughing.

"Er…" I mumbled as I watched. Potter buried his head in his arms again.

"My dad is the most humiliating thing in the world."

Maybe Potter and I could agree on more things than I thought. I sighed. _Okay, I give in! He's not so bad!_ I thought to myself. _Well, as long as I'm going to admit to the crime, I might as well commit it completely._

"Want to start over?" I asked. Potter jumped and turned to me.

"What?"

"Start over. If our dads can do it, so can we. Look, watch. Hi, I'm Samantha Black. Call me Sam. What's your name?"

A smile played on his lips. "Harry Potter. This your first year, too?"

I giggled and thumped him playfully in the shoulder. "Let's not take it back that far!"

"You're right. First year sucked. Hm… okay, then. Hey, I'm Harry Potter. I was just chosen for the Triwizard Tournament without my consent!"

"Potter! Don't make me regret this!"

His green eyes twinkled and he draped his arm over me for the third time. Did this boy ever learn? "Oh, you won't. Don't you worry one bit about that."

"Get off of me or you'll have a lot more to worry about, including washing a blood stain out of your shirt."

Of course, he ignored me. "I think this is the start of a beautiful friendship."

"You hold up the friendship part. I've got the beautiful handled."

"Haha, very funny." A pause. "Actually, that was funny. Merlin, Sam Black is funny!"

I grinned at his incredulous tone. Oh, yes. A beautiful friendship indeed.

* * *

"Hermione, relax," I urged and grabbed my best friend's jaw tightly. "Calm down." I swiped the lipstick over her lips and stepped back to admire my work. Her hair had been managed into a perfect bun, with just a few strategic strands falling out in curls. Her makeup was simple, but brought out the best of her features. She looked perfect.

"How can I relax?" she asked, and leapt to her feet. "I'm about to be married! Soon, I'll be Hermione Weasley! Hermione _Weasley!_ Oh, I'm so scared, Sam!"

"It'll be great. You two are perfect together. Just as long as Fred and George stay where they're supposed to, which they will, nothing can go wrong."

"I told you that at your wedding!" she cried and looked as if tears would come flowing down her face.

"No, no, don't cry! You'll ruin your makeup! And unlike at my wedding, which was in the middle of a war, there will _not_ be a Death Eater ambush. The Death Eaters are dead or in jail. Voldemort -" she cringed, I ignored it – "is gone!"

"I guess." The clock chimed and I turned to face Hermione, who was smiling shakily.

"Ready?"

"I think so."

* * *

Ron looked handsomer than I could have imagined. His dark tux contrasted deeply with his bright red hair and Hermione just beamed as she walked towards him. I walked carefully, trying not to trip on my dress or her's.

I stepped up beside Harry, who grinned from ear to ear at me. "Hello, beautiful," he whispered into my ear as the minister began to conduct the service.

I rolled my eyes and tried to stifle my laughter. "Haven't you got a girlfriend? Ginny's sitting about two yards away, you know."

He shrugged. "Do I get a dance tonight? I thought the best man and matron of honor get to dance."

"One dance, Potter, _one_."

"Ouch, you wound me right here." He placed his hand lightly over his heart, trying to be subtle, but not succeeding. I could see people watching us from the pews. "We're back to surnames, Weasley?"

"Oh, shut up. Or I'll have Fred prank you."

"Threatening me with the husband, now, are you? Marriage has lowered your defenses, hasn't it?"

I pinched him in the elbow to make him shut up. "Just because you're like my brother doesn't mean I'm not opposed to murdering you."

"Ouch."

"You already said that," I pointed out.

He shrugged. "Oh, well."

"Sh!" Hermione hissed to us, and I smiled broadly. I could keep my mouth shut, at least for my best friend's wedding.

"Hey, Sam," Harry whispered as the couple finished their vows. I glared at him, trying to convey my thought silently. Those thoughts happened to be 'Shut the hell up, Potter!' His green orbs melted that thought away after only five minutes of quiet pleading. "Sam, do you think we'll be friends forever?"

He sounded so young and childish, like a five year old. Yet, it was desperate. He had learned to be serious through the war and fights and emotionally scarring final battle, I realized. But he had lost some of what made him _Harry Potter_, the once bane of my existence.

And so, as Hermione said loudly and clearly to Ron and everyone around, I murmured, temporarily forgetting where I was and even who I truly was, "I do."

I had learned to live.

* * *

**Note: **To be honest, I'm not sure why I put Fred and Sam together in the end, it just seemed... right. I never even considered Sam and Harry, though. It seems like I might have, but it never occured until I was done. What do you think of Sam? What do you think of Harry? This Harry is definitely different than canon Harry, but I feel that deep down, they are the same. But I'll leave that up to you. Reviews welcomed! Thank you and I hope you enjoyed!


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